Indiscreet (The Discreet Duet Book 2)

by Nicole French

  “Oh!” I moaned as his teeth closed around my bottom lip. He sucked, then slipped his tongue around mine.

  “Fucking hell,” he muttered as he pulled me onto his lap. In a second, my shirt was pulled up and he was yanking down the lace cups of my bra.

  “Will…” I whimpered, my breath hot and ragged.

  His mouth closed around one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. His left hand slipped under my skirt, took a thick handful of flesh, and kneaded roughly while he hardened between my thighs. I rocked against him, starving for more.

  “What do you need, baby?” His deep voice rumbled over the delicate skin of my neck. He licked under my jaw before taking my earlobe between his teeth and worrying it lightly. “Can I make you come, Lil? I want to watch you fall apart in my arms again.”

  “And––and then what?” His mouth made it hard to think, especially when the hand on my ass slipped farther down, breaching the elastic edge of my panties and making contact with my slick center.

  “I just want to come home, Lil,” Will said as his finger slipped inside. “Any way I can.”

  He captured my mouth again with his, twisting our tongues together in that intoxicating dance that erased all conscious thoughts. All I could feel was pleasure. Belonging. The complete and utter rightness of our bodies acting as one. I ground into him, luxuriating in the long, solid length rubbing against my clit. A second finger joined the first as he sucked on my tongue.

  “Oh, God.” I threaded my fingers through his hair. More. I wanted more. “I’m close,” I whimpered.

  “Do it,” Will urged. “Let go, baby. Let me feel it.”

  His finger began to thrust more insistently, matching the rocking of my hips as I sought more friction against him. His other hand wrapped around my nape, holding me still so he could plunder my mouth more thoroughly. Higher and higher I rose, riding on the grunts, the growls, the heated breaths we shared between indecent kisses.

  But right as I was about to fall apart completely, a tinny, bouncing ringtone rang through the air. I froze, then scrambled to the other side of the couch, feeling like I’d been caught doing something very, very wrong. I struggled to catch my breath, tugging my clothes back into place while Will jumped up.

  “Shit!” He dug into the pockets of his jeans.

  I gawked, fixing my bra as Will pulled out a sleek iPhone. “What is that?!”

  Will ignored my astonishment as he awkwardly punched in the passcode. No fingerprint identification for this guy, apparently.

  “I had to,” he said as he lifted it to his ear. “It was either that or have a gorilla babysitter follow me literally everywhere I went. Ben, what the fuck do you want? I was kind of busy.”

  I watched curiously as Will talked. He sank back onto the couch and set one foot on the glass table. It was a strange juxtaposition. He was dressed in secondhand rags, but he seemed totally at ease with all of this luxury.

  “Okay,” he said. “Yeah, we’ll be right down.”

  He ended the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket with a sigh.

  “Well, well, well. Will Baker is plugged in. If I felt like I didn’t know you before, now you’re really a complete stranger.” I was joking, but it wasn’t totally wrong.

  Will sent me another withering look, which only made me chuckle. In response, he launched himself across the couch, caging me against the white cushions.

  “I’ll show you a stranger, smart-ass,” he said as he leaned in to continue the kiss from before.

  His lips were warm, firm. Familiar. I hadn’t realized it until now, but a part of me had wondered if this would be different too. Would “Fitz Baker” make love differently than Will?

  Their kisses, at least, were the same. As Will teased my mouth open, our tongues were quick to restart that desperate dance our bodies already knew so well, I forgot both of his names. I practically forgot my own.

  “Damn,” he said as he pulled away, though the movement actually made the obvious evidence of his arousal press harder into my thigh. I rotated my hips into it, enjoying the way his breath hitched.

  “You kill me, you know that, Lily pad?” he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

  I closed my eyes as his minty, fresh breath washed over me. “You don’t need to stop.” I wanted more. So much more. I wanted to know it was really him.

  Will sighed. “Unfortunately, I do. The cavalry is on their way up.”

  I opened my eyes. “Benny and Callie?”

  Will nodded, then rolled off me. “The devil waits for no man.”

  I got up, fixing my hair, and followed him back to the stairwell. “I think the saying is that ‘time waits for no man,’ you goon.”

  Will sent me a crooked smile over his shoulder. “Eh. It still fits.”

  “What does it say that you’re referring to your best friend as the devil?”

  Will held the door open, allowing me to walk down the stairs in front of him. “Well, there’s the other saying, right? ‘Better the devil you know, or the devil you don’t’? Benny’s one of the devils I know.”

  “One?”

  Will wasn’t smiling anymore. “One of many,” he confirmed. All humor had left in his voice.

  We found Benny and Calliope waiting impatiently in the living room. Calliope was texting madly while Benny chattered at breakneck speed into his Bluetooth. They both stopped when they saw us approaching. Calliope smiled when she caught my hand in Will’s.

  “I’m going to have to call you back,” Benny said before switching off his Bluetooth. “Is champagne in order, or is this a temporary reunion?”

  Will squeezed my hand, giving me a shy smile as he raised my knuckles to his lips. “She’s stuck with me now,” he said. “But no champagne needed. Yet.”

  My eyes widened, and Will winked.

  Benny raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You did change out there in no man’s land.”

  I smiled back at Will, though I didn’t know exactly why. I still felt unsure about so much—like I had to get to know this man all over again—but I wanted to believe he meant what he said. My heart told me he did.

  “Babe?” Calliope called from the corner. “Look, don’t kill me. But you said you needed money to pay the lawyer, and I might have made some calls. I told a few reps that you’ve been working on some new stuff. They’re interested as soon as you can get a demo together.”

  I sank onto the big white couch that faced Calliope, followed by Will, who seemed unwilling to be more than a foot away from me. “Cal…”

  “Don’t hate me yet,” she said, still tapping into her phone. “It’s only a demo, and you need the money, kid. You’re Fitz Baker’s girl—everyone is interested in you now. We should capitalize on that.”

  Beside me, Will tensed. “Hey,” he said, low enough that only I could hear him. “Do you need some help? Because whatever it is, I can cover it.”

  It was tempting, but I wasn’t going to do it. We were already in a situation that was complicated enough without letting Will pay my legal fees. I had absolutely no interest in incurring that kind of debt.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be fine.” I turned to Callie.

  The thought of performing—even recording—struck a chord of fear through me, but it was either that or waiting tables. Will was facing his fears by being here. It was time for me to face mine too.

  “If you can find me some cheap studio space, I’ll do it,” I said. “I can probably get my old waitressing job back to pay the fees. But it will be me alone. I don’t have the time or money to get a band together.”

  Calliope grinned. “Perfect. I’ll make some calls. A couple of guys at Sony owe me some favors. Make sure you play that new one from this morning.”

  Will blinked at me. “What new one?”

  I shook my head. “Just some messing around.”

  Calliope shot me a sideways look, but I ignored her. I wasn’t ready to talk about the songs I’d written on the drive to New York. They were personal,
my way of dealing with emotions I still hadn’t straightened out in my mind. Our talk on the roof had helped, but things weren’t healed. Nowhere near it.

  “So, hold up. What’s the plan, now?” Benny asked. “You’re not going back to Washington?”

  “We’re going to need a place to stay.” Will tugged me into his side, wrapping a solid arm around my shoulder so he could play with my hair. I cozied into him easily, almost like the last two weeks hadn’t happened. Almost.

  Benny brightened. “For how long?”

  “Only until Maggie gets her hearing.” Will squeezed my shoulders, although Benny’s disappointment was obvious. “She has to deal with some harassment from her asshole ex.” Will turned to me. “Who’s your lawyer?”

  “Her name is Jamie Douglass. She was recommended to me when the YWCA couldn’t take me on again.” Jamie was nice, young, and very cheap. She was pretty inexperienced with all of this, but she was also all I could afford, and was willing to take a payment plan.

  Will’s distaste was palpable. “Huh.” He flickered a glance at Benny, who nodded in response to some unspoken communication between the two of them. Calliope and I both blinked at each other, unsure of what had just happened.

  “Listen, I gotta go, babe,” Callie said, standing up. “Sadly, I do have other clients.” She leaned down to kiss my cheek. “You have the key, right?”

  I nodded. “I’ll, um, keep you updated on where I’ll be later.”

  “Someone will come get her stuff whenever you can be there to let them in,” Will added. “We’ll bring it here until we lock down a place.”

  I turned to him, ready to argue that I could pick up my own things, but he silenced me with a curt shake of his head.

  “I can’t go there right now,” he said quietly. “And where you go, Lil, I go too.”

  I nodded, understanding he was referring to our little spat on the street and the potential crowds that might be there now. He wasn’t overreacting. #FitzSpotting had become a regular sport on Twitter.

  He touched his forehead to mine again, almost like he was trying to telecommunicate the things he couldn’t quite say. I understood. There was a lot to say. A lot to know. And not enough time to figure it all out. We had to take one step at a time.

  “I’ll call you later,” Calliope said as she walked to the elevator.

  I waved.

  “Benny, can you round up a broker for us?” Will asked. “Someone quiet. I’d like to be in a decent place tonight, if possible. We need better security than a hotel can offer.” He turned to me. “Do you have time to look at apartments with me?”

  I nodded. “I should probably practice tonight, though, if I’m going to be recording.”

  Will nodded again, though he tensed right along with me at the mention of recording. He had no idea what kinds of butterflies were already flying around my stomach.

  “Already done.” Benny tapped out a message on his phone—the thing really did seem to be a part of his anatomy. “And…she’s here.”

  As if on cue, the elevator door rang out a new arrival, and beside me Will’s entire body seemed to freeze.

  “Who’s here?” I asked him. “The broker? That was fast.”

  Will pressed his lips into a tight line, and draped his other arm over his face, like he was blocking out the rays of a particularly strong sun. “No, another devil I know. My mother.”

  5

  “Where is he?”

  A pair of heels clicked over the shiny wood floors, announcing the arrival of Tricia Owens-Baker. Her sharp voice came again, echoing the same question again and again with rising levels of hysteria.

  “Where is he? Where is my son, Benny?”

  She swept into the room, a flurry of designer clothes and flashy yet tasteful jewelry. Even if I hadn’t already been told who she was, I still would have known this was Will’s mother. I had seen pictures of her, of course. Tricia Owens-Baker was a beautiful woman who looked somewhere in her mid to late fifties, with a head of thick blonde hair that had the same wavy texture as her son’s. Hers, of course, was perfectly groomed, falling around her shoulders in manicured tresses that bounced slightly as she walked. And while I knew that Will’s physique—his lanky height and swimmer’s shoulders—came from his late father, the man who stood next to this woman in most of her photos, his face was one hundred percent inherited from his mother. Same knife-straight bones, same full mouth, same penetrating green eyes.

  Only hers contained none of the warmth I usually saw in Will’s.

  She was dressed down in that way that only rich people can do while still looking like their wealth, in a crisp, sleeveless button-down blouse that didn’t have a trace of a wrinkle, dark denim jeans that looked like they had never been worn, and black pumps without so much as a scuff. Her nails were French-manicured, and her jewelry included a diamond pendant, a collection of gold bangles around one wrist, and a very expensive-looking watch that gleamed in the afternoon sun.

  Still at the elevator, Calliope glanced between the woman and the rest of us with an alarmed look and mouthed at me, “Should I stay?”

  Though I wished she could, I shook my head. Will didn’t know Calliope, and he wouldn’t want an audience for this reunion. So, with regret, I watched the elevator doors close over my friend, then turned back to the new arrival in the apartment, keeping my hand wrapped securely around Will’s as we both stood up.

  “Benny.” The woman traded air kisses with Benny, then smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles out of her shirt and turned to Will and me. “Oh,” she said. Her voice dropped a full octave. “Oh, here he is.”

  Will swallowed and stepped forward. “Hi…Mom.”

  They stood about five feet apart, eying each other warily. I was reminded of watching cats meet––generally solitary creatures that never seem to expect to run into the other, but when they do, fur, whiskers, ears, tails, everything is on high alert. I half expected one of them to meow.

  I took a step forward, unable to do more with Will keeping his tight grip on me. “Hi, I’m Maggie, Will’s friend,” I said, extended my other hand.

  “Girlfriend,” Will quickly corrected me. “Right?” He looked down at me hopefully, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Right,” I murmured, then turned back to his mother. “Girlfriend. Sorry.”

  His mother completely ignored me, and after a few seconds standing like an idiot with my hand hanging in the air, I stepped back beside Will and waited.

  His mother took a step forward, then another. She examined Will like he was an exhibit at a museum, scanning his body, his clothes, his face, his hair for the tiniest details. Her hand floated out like she was about to stroke his face and pull him in for a hug. But instead, she reached it back and slapped him across the cheek. Hard.

  “What the hell?” I cried out, while Will touched a hand to his cheek and glared at his mother.

  “Trish, Jesus Christ,” Benny put in. “Really?”

  “Well, I see some things haven’t changed,” Will remarked as he rubbed his face.

  “How could you do that to me?” she shrieked. “Four years. Four years we thought you were dead! Thought our boy had drowned. We had a memorial. What you put your father and me through, I can’t even begin to talk about it!”

  She pulled her hand back again, and instinctively, I stepped in front of Will, raising my own hands to stop her.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warned.

  “Tricia, back off.” Benny’s voice was more serious than I’d heard it yet.

  “Mom.” Will’s voice cut through all of the noise, and immediately everyone shut up and turned to him.

  “You killed him,” Tricia said. “You broke his heart and killed him, and I had to handle everything myself!”

  “It’s not like you were much of a help to him,” Will snapped back. “How long has it been since you two lived together? Fourteen, fifteen years now?”

  “That is none of your business. And don’t even think ab
out pretending you cared enough about him to be in his life, Fitzwilliam! My husband is gone now, and it is all your fault!”

  Will wilted. I already knew from his previous disclosures that he did feel responsible for his father’s death. His mother’s accusations told me exactly where that came from.

  “That’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “How can he be responsible for something he wasn’t even there to do?”

  Tricia turned to me, like it had just occurred to her I was present. “And who are you?” she asked, as if I hadn’t already introduced myself.

  I straightened to my full height of five feet, five inches. I was still at least five inches shorter than this woman, who loomed over me in her heels, but I wasn’t cowering to her.

  “I’m Maggie,” I gritted out. “Like I said two minutes ago.”

  She looked me over with the evaluative gaze she had also given Will. “What are you? Hispanic? Filipino?” She looked over my shoulder to Will. “What are you doing, getting involved with trash like this?”

  My mouth dropped. “Are you serious, lady? I am right here.”

  “Tricia, you can get the hell out if you’re gonna start with that kind of racist bullshit,” Benny broke in, the first time I had seen him look or sound anything but unruffled. It was apparent that there was no love lost between him and Will’s mother. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it than Will’s disappearance and Benny’s apparent aid with it. Of course, considering that Benny wasn’t white either, I had to wonder if he’d gotten his share of this garbage from her too.

  Tricia glared at him for a long time, then turned back to Will.

  “Whatever,” she snapped. “What do you think she’s doing here right now? Providing moral support? She probably knew who you were from the start.”

  “Maggie had no idea, Mom,” Will said bitterly. “And when she found out, she left me, if you have to know. I’m only in New York because I was looking for her. Not you. Not Benny. Not anyone else. Her.” He looked down at me, and the fierceness of his gaze practically knocked me over. “I’d find you anywhere, Lily pad.”